she said "really"a tone of disbelief in her voice
he said "do you know how much I love you?
she looked like she was about to cry, but smiled anyway.
He said that they liked his work, that they might hire him on permanantly for 19.50 an hour, she says"do you think we will surrvive?
He had been a meth cook, he had gone to prison a few times, and if he went again he was not going to get back out. for life.
he loved her for keeps, and that die hard recovery that she had
going on. Until this job when the blue collar depression hit her with a strangling dimension of sadness.She had been a queen in her other lifetimes and had found it important enough to save him.
she loved him, his face, his mouth, his back, his hair, his neck. she loved him in a way that she had not loved before.
He had been a king in his last lifetime, arrogant and self centered, never having to address ordinary tasks.
She had to pick up the slack, because it would never get done, not ever, no food would get cooked, no laundry, no dishes washed.
She was not very good at those things, having been a queen herself.
but she gave it a shot, because she knew that someday he would see.
someday after burning through all the king and queens stories, they would get to being right here.Ina and George would pick him up at 3 30 and she would be alone again, with her girlfrinds that would get up with her an cruise Portland sunrise meetings, and piont at the men they thought she should be with. They seemed to think she needed a bearded man, taller than her, buff and moutain hiker -ish.
She would look at the man they saw her with, and wonder why they did not like the one man she had, that she loved.Perhaps it was because they did not see her anymore.He liked her to sleep when he slept, eat when he ate, dream when he dreamed. she had not painted for six months.all she could think about was lovemaking, sex and passionate connection. It was like an obsession.
When he was tired she thought about using, smoking humbolt green bud.it had been six years.she could not throw away what she had worked so hard for.
This year she would graduate form Portland state university with a BA, this was something. she was a run a way from home at 13, a prostitute at 17 and an addict for many years. Forget it that she was a mother, a painter, an artist and a writer, none of that mattered when push came to shove, and it always did.Her sons were beautiful intelligent sensative young men.She was part of a large native american sun dance community.She was a pipe carrier.
she was screwed up over this love thing. all that spirituality and a lost sensation crawled around in her belly, she did not know she was this hungry.
how could my mother have messed me up so badly?Seemed like the best person to blame late at night.
sh had been to the medical exprts, her friend Becca had bought her an hour with a physic that she was supposed to cALL AT NINE. SHE WANTED ANSWERS, AND SHE COULD
NOT WAIT.
should she marry him and adopt his twin 8 yr old boys. tht was ten year commitment, or should she go in the direction of plastic surgury, fake nails and lAW SCHOOL?
